Showing posts with label the Barnevelders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the Barnevelders. Show all posts

Sunday, 12 May 2013

Real Bannockburn free range chicken


Sitting down to my regular half hour "grow your own eat your own" fantasy fix that is SBS Television's Gourmet Farmer last Thursday, I was dismayed to see it is now sponsored by Lilydale 'free range' chicken. Surely Mr Matthew Evans, Gourmet Farmer would be dismayed too, to see that everything he goes on about- honest food- that's raised in a ethical way- was being compromised by 'Big Chickens' muscling in one the vision we all wish we had access to everyday. Lilydale chicken is owned by Baiada- Australia's largest chicken processor. Aside from the fact that free-range is very much a side business (albeit growing) from its regular factory farming business, Baiada also has a dubious reputation for its treatment of workers, many of them new migrants to this country- you can read more about that here and here (be warned the second article is pretty nasty as it describes the death of a worker at the plant). Another big chicken processor La-Ionica was fined a $100K by the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission for misleading customers about its 'free to roam' factory chooks. La Ionica also has its own 'free range brand' - Bannockburn Chickens, given the company's history who knows if they are actually free range as we think of it or if they even come from the town called Bannockburn (just west of Geelong).

With all this on my mind I thought it was time I got around to telling the story of my real Bannockburn free range chook- from his journey as an egg (yep, he was conceived in Bannockburn- hopefully where his parents are still happily pecking around in the yard) to our plates a few weeks ago.

Its a journey that many people I know have questioned as a matter of ethics..."but how could you do it?, "isn't he a pet?", "if you don't need him wouldn't it be kinder to take him to the vet and have him put down?"(mmm- after which time he would be put into landfill while I went off to buy another chicken?) But the fact is I eat meat and if I can't face up to the reality of that in my own backyard, is it right that I allow the 'brand' on the supermarket shelf to hide the reality of really going on?

The decision to raise chickens was one we had considered carefully with the decision if we had a baby rooster (a part of the natural process) we would dispatch and eat it. When our five chicks hatched I kept a sense of detachment, anyone one of them could have a life measured in weeks rather than years. But each week was a good week- from about one week old they were out scratching in the yard (under our watchful eyes for just an hour or so at this stage), hunting and digging. As they grew it became obvious there was one rooster in the midst. He was a bit of an individual, he loved sun baking, legs splayed, wings stretched (maybe because it took him ages to feather up- a sign we were warned by the breeder he would be a boy). As time went on I wondered wouldn't he make a good breeder (picturing a bucolic image of him standing proud over his flock) - but when I went into the for sale section of backyard poultry there were dozens of other people with the same idea. In commercial farming, free range or not  roosters are expendable,  they are summarily executed on the first day of their lives. My boy had the chance to run around, roll in the dirt, carry on like a complete ratbag chasing the birds, woo the ladies,and towards the end do what roosters do with his surrogate mum and half sisters- (god love him)  thankfully I don't think he got it quite right!

Once he started crowing it was pretty much time to face reality. I researched on the net- 'home chicken killing'- forums on different methods, what time is the right time. Most people seemed to think around 14 weeks before they get too leggy, some people said killing chickens older than that wasn't worth it as they were all leg and no meat, others suggested waiting until 22 weeks for heritage breeds when the meat had filled out. It all seemed right in theory.... but I was worried about the practice - what if we got it wrong? I wasn't sure I personally had the physical strength to make sure it was a clean kill. To add to the dilemmas, G crashed his bike and tore the ligaments on his fingers rendering him 8 weeks out of action... with a loudly crowing rooster cooped up in the spare bedroom at night.

It was through my connections with the local permaculture group we got the opportunity to dispatch our rooster as part of a skill share session. Anyone with an interest could come along and learn how to kill, pluck and butcher their home grown roosters. In the end three others joined G and I when we drove him 500m up the road to the local community centre. Rather than the fear and terror that must be felt by the millions of other chooks, snatched in the darkness, jammed into crates and driven out in the open at high speed down the freeway, our rooster was sitting in his familiar crate (albeit a little hungry and impatient). When he was taken out and held upside down by his feet he seemed a little annoyed, then dazed for a minute as his head hit the block - then it was all over in a short couple of seconds.

Everyone then learned to pluck, gut and joint the chicken. The moment the feathers came off we could see the difference, long and leggy, his skin yellow.

commencing the gutting process

We brought 'Roo Roo' home in a plastic tub. As a small sign of respect, or rather sentimentality I took the bits we didn't want (the head and feet) to bury in the garden next to my other beloved hen. With the smell of fresh meat, his mama Boss came running over expectantly looking for some tasty treats. It seemed a bit macabre but really made me appreciate there is no such thing as sentimentality in the animal world. In my chook's eyes one minute he was there and one minute he was gone, end of story.

In the pot- no added artificial flavours or colours!

But I am a sentimental being- so I wanted to make sure this meat was treated with respect. Originally I had planned my favourite roast chicken recipe, but with dispatch happening on Sunday we didn't have the time to let the meat rest so we opted for 'Coq au vin' (Mathew Evans recipe) using a good bottle of Riesling, some free range pancetta (substituted for the prosciutto which was not available) and stock I boiled down and froze from my last roast chook. For such a seemingly skinny bird I struggled to jam all the pieces (including the frame) into my stove top casserole dish. All in all he gave us four delicious meals:
 (plus I took a small taster to work for my colleagues who were curious enough to try).

  • two  hearty goes at the coq au vin (after two days resting in the fridge and reheat in the oven, the second helping was sensational, rich, slightly gamey flavour falling off the bone)
  • meat shredded off the frame to top a delicious pizza with Meredith marinated goats cheese, fresh herbs and home grown tomatoes and zucchini 
  • 500mls of left over liquid to form the base of a rich pumpkin and leek risotto (with even more left overs for lunch).


On the first night, I set the dining table and opened a good bottle of Ten Minutes by Tractor Mornington Pinot as it seemed apt to respect and reflect. 

At the end of it all, was I glad I did it ? Yes. Would I do it again  Yes, although our chicken breeding days are over for now. What did I take away from it all? That we should think deeply about where our food comes from and that we should also take time from our busy lives to pay respect for a moment for the animals we didn't know and where ever possible make sure we choose the most ethical meat options we have available.










Thursday, 17 January 2013

Change in the weather


OK so this entry is just a blatant excuse to post this cute picture of Boss ( and yes she is moulting!) attempting to shield her over-sized brood from the breeze on a chilly summer's night last weekend. The babies, despite losing their fluff seem to have been in no hurry to feather up, meaning it was all a bit of a shock to the system.

Where in the world would you have a week that started with a 39 degree day followed by a 20 degree day, then some other random in between days in the 20's finally ending with a 40 degree day...Welcome to Melbourne...

While the animals and plants must be confused, I am just thankful we have managed to escape the worst of the heat wave that has recently enveloped the rest of the country. Stay cool everyone.

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

The chook saga

Its been a bit of  roller coaster on the chook front over the past few months.... first came sadness, then anticipation, then relief and joy and happiness.

Sadness because  a few months ago our girl Spazz passed away. Something not quite right had been going on for quite a while, sadly something that not even a drive across town to the bird vet and a bill to match could solve. We watched her slowly losing her rough and tumble snatch and grab approach to life. I knew thing were drawing to an end when our other chook Boss also figured out something was wrong and pecked and kicked her away. She died peacefully on a beautiful spring day and  I buried her in the spot where she had dug and scratched the native violets out of existence.

The question came next as to what to do with Boss. Chooks are flock birds and don't live happily alone. At that time of year its practically impossible to find large 'point of lay pullets' as the year's crop has just finished hatching. But Boss had one thing on her mind apart from laying eggs and that was sitting on them.

It 6 of her own eggs to get her to bed down overnight on her clutch and we were ready and waiting. A quick trip out to her home farm at  Bannockburn to collect a precious cargo of 8 fertilised eggs.

Boss sat tight for days on end and we changed her name to 'Miss Clucky Mama'. She only ventured off for 10 minutes to eat, drink, drop a big steaming pile of chicken manure, engage in  power dust bath before bolting back to the nest.

21 days later and the wait was over..... five perfect little hatchlings poked out one at time from a protective 'mum' (we found earlier that 3 of the eggs  were most likely unfertilised and were not developing).

"Hello baby"- still a bit dazed and confused following the arrival of chick number 1


Locked up with the brood.


At first everyone was confined to an enclosed nest box area but within a week poor boss suffered 'cabin fever' with five little ones under her feet and took them all downstairs. They haven't looked back since!
First venture into the veggie patch
As I am sitting here typing 5 little scruffy little things (they look like feathered baby dinosaurs) are rampaging round the yard  scratching and digging running poor Boss ragged in their constant hunt for bugs and seeds.

At home in the garden

With one confirmed baby rooster (hes got attitude already) and another one or two possibles, I am doing my best to visualise tasty roast chicken and how when to dispatch..... (will keep two pullets as friends for boss)

Junior rooster (centre) One month old today! he's already lived longer and happier than an average KFC bucket!



Friday, 6 January 2012

Meet the livestock.



Meet Boss & Spazz our Barnevelder chickens...... Its hard to believe just a year ago they were just 2 cheepie little chicks and we were the proud new parents who had no idea what we were getting ourselves in for. (its also hard to believe that these tiny 5 week old chicks are the SAME age as your average supermarket roast chook was before it became roast dinner- something freaky is seriously going on there)

But anyway it seems nowadays chooks are the must have suburban backyard accessory... I am not going to admit to jumping onto the trendy hipster bandwagon- because it was my idea first! But I will admit to my choice of  chook breed came directly from being too obsessed with SBS Gourmet Farmer. The first step that delayed getting the chooks for a long time was finding somewhere to put them- this problem was solved when the top half of  struggling wattle/accacia up the back snapped and we decided it had to go. This freed up enough space next to the shed- which had the added bonus of providing a secure wall to one side of the enclosure.
The cage is a mix of new and scavenged materials that gave Glenn a few weekends worth of DIY excitement. The next stage in the process was securing the chickens. We found a breeder by the name of Hazel who advertised on the Backyard Poultry website. Hazel was happy to invite us down to her property at Bannockburn to collect our babies. She led us into a shed with the broody boxes and we were presented with half a dozen chicks to choose from- scooped out of the broody box with a net! I grabbed 2 largest chicks and so it was we became chicken owners!  As for naming the chicks as they were supposed to be livestock not pets so we didn't set out to name them at all. Unfortunately the practicalities of differentiating the who's who meant the chickens named themselves. Boss got her name as she was the leader of the 'flock' since day one. Boss would be the first to try new things and the chick who would take the lead when it was time to go to bed. Poor Spazz on the other hand seemed to struggle a bit at the start... she got her name as her feathers on her wing are often sticking out sideways and an early lesson in flying seemed to end badly when she refused to jump off the perch. Now shes a fully grown chook - shes not the boss in the leadership sense but she certainly is bossy... her technique is to grab onto what ever tasty morsel Boss has has found and push her out of the way so Boss doesn't get it back.